In All the Right Ways
by caffinate-me
Summary: Olivia Benson has been with the SVU department for 6 months, and it is not getting any easier. At the point when she wants to give up she crosses paths with a woman who has the potential to change her life forever.
1. Chapter 1

In All The Right Ways:

A Law & Order: SVU Story

Chapter 1

It was raining that day; not just raining, it was pouring and the childhood chant would not stop passing through Olivia's mind: "It's raining, it's pouring, the old man is snoring…" Every time it would start up again, she would be forced to shake her head to get rid of the annoying, repetitious earworm. To this day she didn't understand the riddle, or why children's rhymes had to be so malicious. Babies falling out of trees, "ashes, ashes we all fall down", men dying in their sleep. Kids were cruel little people. Her head was bent to shield her face from the onslaught of water, her hands stuffed into her jacket pockets, and the hood of her jacket pulled up tight— valiantly failing to keep her messily styled hair dry. The coolness of the February air made the rain sting as it the fraction of skin still showing on her body as she made her way to the station. She kept on reminding herself that she had signed up for this as she made her way up the slick stairs and pulled the wet jacket off her body.

It had been six months since she had started in the Special Victims Unit, and it was hard— harder than she had expected. In a way she had been a victim, she had been through the system herself, and had seen what rape and abuse could do to a person. But it was one thing to see it once or twice and it was something completely different to see it every day— men, women, children, babies, old, young, black, white, gay, straight. She saw it all. And it had only been six months.

It was seven AM and she already wanted a drink.

Olivia stopped outside the squad room and stared at her empty desk, there was still a pile of manila folders stacked haphazardly in the middle of it, looking like it could tumble at any second, and she couldn't help but wonder what would happen if they did. All those cases getting mixed together into a big pile of human waste, sludge and ooze; the worst of humanity tumbling into one giant pustule of a melting pot. Would the squad room implode? Would the world come to an end?

The stack fell and all the papers fluttered innocently to the ground. Nothing happened. John Munch, one of the other detectives, ignorant of the mess, walked through with his nose stuck in a file folder, leaving a muddy footprint on one of the crumbled pages.

"You know," a male voice sounded humorously behind her, "If you stand here and stare at them long enough they might do a trick and clean themselves up."

Olivia turned her head to see her partner, Elliot Stabler, staring at the mess of folders on the floor. He seemed to be in deep thought over the mess while absently sipping his coffee. She could see the faintest hint of a smile playing at his lips and couldn't help cracking a small one herself. She shook her head and started towards her desk, intent on seeing how long she could drag out sorting through the mess and therefore putting off the more serious work that awaited her for the day— an abused and battered twelve year-old girl. Olivia could feel the pit in her stomach growing as she thought about it. The girl needed help, but all Olivia wanted to do was run, run far away and never look back. She could become an accountant- she always had been good at math, or maybe a software engineer. Nothing that involved human services, teaching, medicine, or any other profession that involved working with people that could potentially be beaten or mistreated.

She gathered up the mess and set it in a big lumpy pile on her desk. She was fruitlessly trying to get Munch's shoeprint off one sheet when her glanced up and saw Elliot watching her sipping his coffee.

"What?" She snapped back at him and watched in satisfaction as he leaned back in his chair and raised his hands in surrender.

* * *

Olivia bag slithered off her shoulder and onto the floor the minute she entered her apartment. Her shoes were kicked off next and she took one last drag on her cigarette before snuffing it out in a half full coffee cup standing cold on the kitchen counter. She was going to quit next week. Really.

The interview with the girl was tough; dealing with her parents had been damn near impossible. She trudged through her apartment, shredding articles of clothing as she went— as a kid she loved to dress up in the professional clothes: suits, skirts, and button-down shirts. As an adult they were uncomfortable and annoying. The phone started to ring but she ignored it as she changed into her favorite pair of broken-in sweat pants and a ribbed tank top

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Olivia, happy birthday to you!"

Olivia froze as she pulled a beer out of the fridge when she heard her mother's drunken voice filter through the answering machine. She had gone the whole day without hearing anyone say those words— she had almost made it. Her mother was always drunk on her birthday. She wouldn't have been surprised if her mother had been drunk on her actual day of birth, too. She looked down at the beer clutched in her hand. Some days she wondered if she was truly any better— sitting at home, alone in the dark drinking after a long day at work. No one besides her drunken mother had called her to wish her happy birthday or for any other reason. Walking over to the sink she poured the rest of her beer down the drain and after switching out her comfortable sweats for a tight sweater and fashionably torn jeans headed out into the chilly February evening.

Images swirled through her mind as she walked, silently dodging businessmen and other angry pedestrians on the wide Manhattan sidewalk. Her mind was starting to sink back to her childhood. Yelling, drunken slurs, burning tears sliding down her cheeks as she sat forgotten on the steps of her school, walking home in the cold her fingers frozen because she had lost her gloves, then suddenly 'wham!'. She let out a small moan as she was snapped back into reality by the solid body of the pissed off businessman she had just run into.

"Watch it, lady!" The man snapped as he pushed past her.

"Sorry, " she whispered now talking to the empty space on the sidewalk in front of her before shaking her head and continuing to walk.

She started to look around her, her brain was back from its trip and she was sucked back into reality.

"When did it get dark?" she mumbled to herself as she continued to get her bearings. Glancing to her left she caught sight of an entrance to Columbia University and let out an involuntary groan. She was at least an hour walk away from her apartment now. She contemplated turning around but she was in no mood to go home yet; instead she continued on down the sidewalk, glancing in windows looking for something at least mildly entertaining. The sounds from an overcrowded college bar overwhelmed her senses and she skirted around the crowd spilling over onto the sidewalk. Spotting a coffee shop a couple of doors down from the bar she gave a sigh of relief. Her tingling fingers were telling her it was time to stop and warm up—she hadn't gotten any better at remembering to wear gloves.

Clutching the cardboard coffee cup in her hands she made her way to a table in the back of the café with a clear view of the door. She sat with the back of her chair flat against the back wall and quietly observed her surroundings. Once a cop, always a cop. Leaning her chair back on two legs— another bad habit she had kept from childhood— she took a long pull on her coffee and continued to take in the other patrons of the shop. A couple groups of students sat talking and laughing, their coffee long gone or forgotten. One young man dressed in all black with spiked hair typing furiously on a laptop at a secluded table; four coffee cups littered the table around him. A couple of women sat in over-stuffed chairs and were laughing quietly in their intimate corner and a couple more people sat around lost in their own worlds reading novels and newspapers. Almost done with her scan, Olivia's eyes stopped on one very remarkable blonde woman.

The blonde's head was bent over a very thick textbook and there at least three other extremely thick texts scattered on the table around her. Olivia could see her lips moving and assumed she was muttering about whatever she was studying. She couldn't help but to chuckle as she observed the other woman— midterms. She definitely did not miss those days.

After finishing her scan, Olivia felt her mind drifting back into its own thoughts only to be snapped back into reality by rising voices.

"Oh, come off it Cabot, you know you liked it."

Olivia glanced around to find the owner of the voice and found a young, dark-haired man leaning over the studying blonde.

"Leave me alone Derek, you know I have to take the Bar tomorrow and so do you, so don't think you should be studying instead of bothering me. God knows you need all the help you can get if you want to pass," the blonde replied, clearly not entertained by 'Derek'.

Olivia could see something flash in his eyes and she shot out of her chair when Derek grabbed the young woman's arm and almost yanked her out of the chair.

"Let me go you asshole!" The blonde woman yelped her voice a mixture of anger and surprise.

"Is there a problem here?" Olivia asked warily, tapping Derek 'the asshole' on the shoulder. She stepped back and crossed her arms over the chest in her best "don't mess with me Douche Bag" stance.

Derek glanced over his shoulder and smirked at her, "No, no problem, Miss. Alex and I were just having a discussion."

"Well, it looks to me like Alex isn't enjoying your discussion, so why don't you just head on home, Skippy."

Derek let out a snort and turned his attention back to Alex ignoring Olivia, "Come on Cabot, just one more date. I promise I'll make it worth your while."

From his saccharine tone of voice Olivia had no doubt in her mind what he meant by "worth your while" and she wasn't happy about it, or the fact that he still had a grip on the woman's arm. She was about to step in and snap the guy's wrist when the blonde's laughter caught her off guard.

"Are you serious, you douche. There is never going to be a second date, especially since there wasn't a first date to begin with."

"But Alex," Derek, his voice getting a dangerous tint to it, and Olivia saw Alex's face flinch as Derek's hand tightened on her arm.

"She said she isn't interested," Olivia stepped in. "Now, why don't you be a good little punk and leave."

"Look lady," Derek started, letting go of Alex's arm and turning to face her, straightening up to his full height of over six feet.

"It's detective, Mr.…" Olivia paused waiting for an answer.

"Langan. Derek Langan," he replied cockily.

"Mr. Langan. If you don't want to get arrested for assault I would recommend that you leave Ms. Cabot alone and never come within fifty feet of her again. Sound good?" Olivia could feel the predatory glint in her eye and the curl of her lip as she stated the blatant threat.

Derek huffed and stood for a second, arms folded over his chest seemingly debating his options.

"Yes ma'am," he finally replied reluctantly before making his way to the door.

Olivia let out a small laugh as he skittered towards the door. Rich little punk.

An awkward silence settled over the pair left at the coffee shop.

"So…" Olivia started. "Are you okay, Ms. Cabot?"

Alex, who had been staring intently at the door, was snapped her back into reality by the sound of the soft voice coming from the woman standing next to her.

"Um, what?" Sorry," the dazed response was the only words that managed their way out of her mouth.

"Are you always such an eloquent speaker, Ms. Cabot? Your law professors must be terrified of your debating skills," Olivia teased.

She could visibly see the blonde bristle at the words and she had to struggle to keep the smirk off her face.

"I happen to be a very eloquent speaker Officer Benson, so if you would excuse me, I thank you for your assistance but I have to get back to studying." With pursed lips and a steady glare, Alex popped the top off of her highlighter and bent back over her stack of books.

Olivia could no longer stop the laughter that was bubbling up in her chest and she let out a chuckle as she made her way back over to her abandoned table and coffee. She was just happy she had gotten the other woman's mind off of Derek Langan. When she reached her table she paused, and instead of sitting she plucked up her now lukewarm coffee and turned back to the other table. Plopping herself down in one of the three empty chairs, she raised her cup in silent acknowledgement when the blond glanced up at her over the thick back frames of her glasses. Relaxing back into the chair, Olivia casually sipped her drink. She couldn't explain why, but didn't want to stay away. She didn't want to go back to sitting alone in her dark thoughts.

"Can I help you?" Alex asked after a few minutes of pretending to study.

Olivia looked at the blonde head that was still bent over the book, and slouched down a little more in the chair, throwing her arm over the back. "Nope, I just want to make sure no one else bothers you, Ms. Cabot."

Alex let out a small huff, looked up and bit her lip, as if trying to come up with an appropriate retort. Instead she settled for a small glare and bent her head back over the text. A few minutes and not so subtle glances later, Alex finally gave up, took her glasses off, leaned back in her chair, and dropped her highlighter unceremoniously onto the table.

"You know, you could make sure that 'no one else bother's me' from another table," she replied, arms folded over her chest.

Olivia took the clipped statement as an opening and scooted forward in her seat, propping her elbows on the table, letting the coffee cup swing from her fingertips. "I could… But if I was watching you from over there," she gestured at her abandoned table. "It would be creepy, this way it's charming and chivalrous," she rationalized, an impish grin on her face.

"Do you make a habit of rescuing and then hitting on strangers in coffee shops are am I just special?" Alex was still sitting in the same position, unimpressed.

"Oh, from what I can tell, Ms. Cabot, you are definitely special. But, no, for your information this is not something I usually do. I've just had a very bad day and didn't feel like sitting alone anymore with the freakishly horrible images replaying in my head. So, to be honest I just wanted to talk to you, but I know you have to study and I have run out of coffee so I will take that as my cue to leave."

Alex was taken aback by the brutally honest and haunted look in the other woman's eyes and suddenly couldn't help but feel like she had studied enough. Before she knew what was happening, her hand placed itself gently on the detective's arm successfully stopping her from leaving.

"Thank you, Detective, for the help earlier and for effectively distracting me from studying and from Derek Langan, I greatly appreciate it."

"It was no problem, Ms. Cabot. Thank you for the company even if it was unwilling. And it's Olivia."

"Alex."

"It was nice to meet you, Alex. You should probably get back to studying and make sure to get some sleep, we need some good new ADAs so you need to ace that Bar tomorrow," Olivia's fingers slipped into the pouch that held her badge and she pulled out a business card. "If you ever need anything, you can find me at the 1-6."

"Okay," Alex responded quietly, cradling the small card in the palm of her hand like it was a new prized possession.

"Olivia!" She managed to call as the detective neared the door, "Why was your day so horrible?"

Olivia turned around, still backing her way towards the door and shrugged, "It was my birthday."

With that the brunette turned and pushed her way through the door to the bustling streets of The City.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you everyone for your kind reviews and for your encouragement. I am happy that you are interested in this story and I hope I can keep it interesting for you. Please let me know what you think, I really do appreciate the feedback, and now on to chapter 2! - Caff.

Chapter 2

Angie, the secretary for the 1-6 station house looked up from her spot at the front desk to see a young woman walked through the front doors and stop in the middle of the lobby. The woman was glancing around the house, not quite looking lost, but like she still wasn't sure why she was there.

"Can I help you?" she asked, a friendly smile gracing her lips.

The other woman bit her lower lip, letting a small sliver of the nervousness she was feeling spill through, "I am looking for Detective Benson."

Angie felt her heart sink in her chest, whenever a woman came looking for anyone in the special victims department, especially Detective Olivia Benson, it was never for a good reason. The woman in front of her didn't look like she had been attacked, but sometimes you never knew.

"Sure, Sweetie." Angie's voice took on a overly sweet tone as she responded to the woman, "I can tell you where to find her, or I can have Officer Collins here escort you. Unless, of course, you'd feel more comfortable with a female officer."

Angie's voice trailed off as she took in the puzzled expression on the woman's face.

"No. No thanks," the other woman replied slowly. "If you could just direct me, I'm sure I can manage on my own."

"Of course, Dear."

The young woman listened as the other woman directed her to the third floor and gave a small thank you as she made her way to the stairs. She could feel the secretary's sympathetic eyes following her and gave her head a small shake.

"Excuse me," she said approaching the only person she saw in the third floor squad room. "I am looking for Detective Benson. Do you know where I can find her?"

The young man looked up and the woman blanched slightly he looked barely older than her— still with baby fat in his cheeks, but his eyes were dull, like he had already been haunted by all of the horrors he had seen, but they softened significantly when he looked at her. "She actually is in an interview right now; it could be a while. Is there something I can help you with?"

The sympathetic tone and look the man gave her didn't surprise the visitor; the three people she had passed on the way up the stairs and the one woman who had pointed her towards the squad room had given her the same look. She set aside her growing confusion and gave the young detective a small smile, trying to squash the feeling of disappointment bubbling up in her chest.

"Actually, If you could direct me to her desk, I have something to drop off for her," she began turning in the direction that the man pointed her. Pausing she turned back. Time to put those litigating skills to work, "And if you could tell me why everyone keeps looking at me like I'm going to burst into hysterics at an moment when I say I am here to see Detective Benson, I would greatly appreciate it."

There was a sudden change in the man's face, but it was hard to distinguish if it was because if the faux authoritative tone her voice had taken on, or the words that came out of her mouth. The sympathetic, pitying look in his eyes had now been turned to somewhere between embarrassed and panicked.

"I'm sorry Miss, it's just that when a woman comes in here alone, especially if they are looking for Olivia, chances are that they have been, you know, attacked," he mumbled before his ears turned bright red and he started to ramble, "It's just because she's our only female detective right now, so some women just feel more comfortable with her than the rest of us. Not to say that she's not a great detective, because she is…"

The detective's voice trailed off and blush moved down his neck as she continued to stare at him, eyebrows slowly rising in silent question and she dreaded the next question that was pushing its way out of her mouth. When it came out, it was barely more than a whisper— her bravado had vanished, "What exactly do you mean by 'attacked'?"

The young man's cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red, giving an idea of just exactly how knew he was to this job.

"Um, raped, Ma'am. We work special victims— you know, sex crimes?"

"Oh," was the only reply. "Well, I'm just a friend, and I'm just going to drop this off to her now."

The young woman turned back towards Olivia's desk, but paused momentarily when she heard the detective mumble under this breath, his head already bent back over the file he was reading, " Who knew Benson actually had any friends."

* * *

It wasn't until four days later that a pale purple envelope fell out of a stack of file folders on Olivia's desk. Due to a heavier than normal case load and a backlog of paperwork the desk was a sea of paper and Olivia was exhausted— her long brown hair pulled up into a messy bun and black bags growing under her eyes. The envelope fluttered to the ground catching Olivia's attention through her haze and landed on the floor next to her left foot that had freed itself of her boots, toes happy to be wiggling free.

"Oh, yeah," Brian Cassidy said, walking by her desk as she bent down to pick up the letter. "A blonde chick came by the other day and dropped that off for you."

"A blonde chick?" Olivia ran through her mental rolodex, choosing to ignore the sexist slang, and came up empty on 'blonde chicks'— at least ones that would give her a card.

"Yeah, about 5'7", 5'8", long hair— probably to her waist, Columbia sweatshirt and jeans… oh, and black framed glasses. They were kinda sexy in a geeky sort of way," he shrugged and sat down at his desk, just as excited as Olivia to be station at midnight. "She said she was a friend."

"Oh!" Olivia felt a silly smile spread involuntarily across her face at Cassidy's description. "You mean Alex!"

Brian shrugged again, "Sure, Liv. Hey, does she have a boyfriend, because she was pretty hot."

Olivia rolled her eyes as she tore open the envelope a little too quickly. "She's out of your league Cassidy."

It was Brian's turn to roll his eyes as the card in her hands absorbed Olivia's attention. It was obviously bought in a store a swirly "Thank you" printed on the cover. Olivia ran her hand delicately over the writing causing small flakes of glitter to fall off into her lap. Flipping it open she saw a page covered in swirled handwriting that was almost as perfect as the cover.

"Dear Olivia," it read. "I'm not sure if you remember me- it has been a few weeks, but I am the one that you helped in the coffee shop. I just wanted to extend my thanks for "rescuing" me from Derek that night. It wasn't until a few days later that what you were doing finally dawned on me. So I would also like to thank you for also taking my mind off of the confrontation and the exam. Having a clear mind truly did help me. I was able to go home, get some sleep. So, thank you once again for your assistance, and I would love it if you would give me a call. I would like to properly thank you by taking you out to dinner, but I know you are busy. In any case, I hope I will see you again. Always, Alex Cabot."

The silly grin widened on Olivia's face as she reached for the phone. The phone started to ring her mind started to race. What was she doing? She had met this woman once, six weeks ago, and she had left the note four days before. Chances are the other woman had already given up on her calling back. The phone rang five times, and Olivia was about to hang up, when a sleepy voice came on the line.

"Hello?"

"Hello?" The voice said again, a little more awake and a little more irritated when Olivia didn't respond, instead choosing to sit at her desk with a dry mouth and wide eyes.

Olivia snapped out of her trance and glanced at the clock grimacing at the time, "Um, hi, Alex. I am so sorry. I didn't realize it was so late. Just, just go back to sleep and I'll call you again in the morning."

Olivia closed her eyes, and leaned back in her chair, embarrassed at her own rambling. The soft giggle on the other end of the phone caused one of her eyes to pop open.

"It's okay. Who is this?"

"Oh, shit sorry. It's Olivia. Olivia Benson," Olivia felt her cheeks burning but couldn't stop the words tumbling out of her mouth. "I just got your card. It got buried under a stack of files. I wanted to see if you would like to grab some dinner, but I didn't realize that it was so late, so I'm sorry again. Go back to sleep and we can get together some other time."

Another chuckle came across the line and Olivia set a silent thank you skyward that she had finally stopped rambling.

"It's okay. I'm awake now. If you want, we can still meet up. I know a small 24 hour diner."

Olivia's stomach let out a loud growl, she couldn't even remember the last time she had ingested something that wasn't squad room coffee.

"Sure, that sounds great," she grinned into the phone and listened while Alex gave her directions. Hanging up she glanced at the final DD5 on her desk and sighed, then shrugged. She leaned down, pulled on her boots and grabbed her coat. It could wait until morning.

* * *

Alex let out a sigh and placed the phone back on her nightstand, a soft smile playing on her lips. She had given up on Olivia actually calling her back, chalking it up to a glitch in her radar. And, to tell the truth, after the conversation with the baby faced detective she wouldn't have been surprised if she never heard from the aloof woman again. She started to roll out when a moan caused her to freeze and her eyes to pop open wide as she remembered the blonde lying in bed next to her.


	3. Chapter 3

Hello everyone! Once again, thank you so much for all of your encouraging reviews. I apologize profusely for the delay in posting this chapter, but I literally had to rewrite it 4 times before I liked it enough to post it. Even now it has pretty much taken on a life of its own, and turned out completely differently than I had originally imagined it, but I think it is much more entertaining. Once again, let me know what you think, and don't worry there will be much more explanation in chapters to come. =).

And, MillaMayhem thank you so much for your kind compliment and to answer your question, no I do not write professionally, but I am attempting to write my first original novel and hopefully some day I will have it finished and be begging people to buy it. lol.

* * *

Chapter 3

Alex let out a groan as she rolled over and gazed at the long brown hair and smooth, almost blemish free skin. Her eyes traveled over the olive skin and she could feel the disappointment when her ogling was cut short by the seemingly strategically placed sheet. She slid out of the bed and gathered her discarded clothing; she crept out the door and made her way across the dark living room donning on her now dry clothing as she went.

Standing at the front door, she went to pull her hair up into a ponytail and paused, her fingers playing with the ends of her hair that she hadn't had the heart to cut in the past ten years and she could feel the tears start to gather in her eyes. When had she become this person? She had been in two beds with two different people in one night. What had happened to the perfect porcelain doll of a daughter her mother had raised? What had happened to that trust fund baby who had gone to Harvard and Columbia and had earned straight A's, wore Prada shoes and who's only vice was a glass of red wine at Christmas dinner.

The first time Alex had ended up in bed with a woman she had blamed it on extremely high blood alcohol levels and curiosity brought on by her extremely conservative and sheltered upbringing. It had been the first time she had ever gotten drunk, and it had been exhilarating. But this, this had gone too far, this wasn't right.

It had started so innocently, with a celebratory dinner. Alex rested her head against the cold worn wooden door and let her mind wander back over the events of the last few hours and felt the warm tears start to fall down her cheeks.

* * *

"Reenie!" She whispered loudly, shaking the shoulder of the very naked blonde woman next to her.

When the other woman let out an indignant mumble and rolled over Alex shook her shoulder harder, "Serena, you have to wake up. You have to leave."

"Wha? Alex? What's going on?"

"Serena, you have to wake up. I have to go," Alex had worked her way out of the bed and was actively searching for her bra, which was around there somewhere.

"No, you go. I'll stay and sleep."

"Serena, you have to go. You remember that woman I told you about, the one from the coffee shop? She just called and I am going to meet her at Bill's. I can't go meet her, with you sleeping in my bed. It's not right." Alex argued as she pulled her off of a lamp and grabbed a new pair of underwear out of the drawer.

Serena huffed and propped herself up on her elbows the sheet piling around her waist leaving her naked breasts for Alex to view. "What's not right, Alexandra, is waking up your fuck buddy friend and kicking her out of your bed so you can go on a date with another woman. You have a screwed up idea of ethics my friend."

"Serena!" Alex whined, pulling on a shirt and jeans. "It's not a date, you know I don't date women. And you did the same thing when you had a shot with Caroline, you know married Caroline from our judicial ethics class. Don't even get me started on the ethical irony of that one."

Serena couldn't help but laugh as she rolled her eyes. "Oh, of course not. You don't date women; you just get drunk off your ass and fuck the living daylights out of them. Or should I say out of me, since I seem to be your lesbian of choice. And say what you want about Caroline, but at least I can accept my sluttiness and my membership in the KD Lang fan club. You my friend are one mixed up puppy."

"Okay, fine, I am mixed up, but you know what, you are my friend, so you should do what I ask and get out of here!"

"Fine, Cabot, but only for you would I do the walk of shame at midnight," Serena mumbled, pulling herself out of the bed and picking up her discarded clothing.

"Walk of shame, my ass, you live across the living room."

"It's the principle!"

The diner, Bill's, was too brightly lit for 12:30 in the morning. The florescent lights seemed to be trying to make up for the darkness outside. It was pretty crowded for the time of night. Olivia sat in the booth finally feeling the exhaustion of the last few days settle over her. She gripped a steaming cup of coffee in her hands, and allowed her head to lean back on the sticky plastic back of the booth bench. Every time she felt herself start to nod off she would jerk her head up and take a long sip of the coffee. It was a futile attempt— she had gone so long with out a decent night's sleep that no amount of caffeine would keep her awake for long.

Alex ran into Bill's about 15 minutes after Olivia had gotten there. Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail. It had started to rain when she was still five minutes away causing her to break into a run. It was now pouring, Alex was soaking, freezing and extremely out of breath. Sexy.

"It's retribution," Alex grumbled to herself as she attempted to ring out her hair and rubbed her hands together furiously at the entrance of the diner. She glanced around and spotted Olivia: head back, dozing in the booth. Well they were a pair— maybe she was getting to old to be going out all night.

Alex tried to slide quietly into the booth, but froze as the unforgiving plastic let out an unflattering whine and Olivia's eyes flew open.

"Um, hi," Alex muttered, fruitlessly attempting to wipe another clump of soggy hair out of her eyes.

"Hi," Olivia responded, her eyes traveling over the other woman, taking in the wet mop of hair tied into a messy knot, the sweatshirt dripping from the too-long sleeves and shivering body. Letting out an involuntary laugh, she slid out of the booth and swung her leather jacket over her shoulders.

"You coming?" Olivia called over her shoulder to the bedraggled woman as she sauntered towards the door.

Olivia didn't stop or turn around as she made her way down the sidewalk in the now drizzling rain, and as Alex hurried to keep up with her, the little voice in the back of her mind kept on piping up, asking her what she was doing. Why was she following this woman who was practically a stranger to who knows where? Did she really trust her? Why did she trust her? She could be crazy. She could be a lot of things.

Alex paused at the crosswalk, Olivia standing only a few feet in front of her. She could feel her hand itching to reach out and run her soaked, freezing fingers through the wet matted head of long brown hair in front of her. All she needed to do was stare at the back of Olivia's head, and she could answer that annoying little voice definitively; yes, she could trust Olivia, she could trust her implicitly. And, no, she could not tell you why. It was something in her eyes that made Alex want to drown, and it scared and enticed her at the same time. Alex wasn't gay, she upon occasion found herself in her roommate's bed, naked, but that didn't make her a lesbian. She also did not drink heavily even though she had woken up with monster hangovers, and she did not smoke anything legal or illegal even though she owned her own Zippo lighter and had a hidden stash of rolling papers and Camel Lights in her room.

And, so she continued to follow Olivia up two city blocks, through the front glass door of a nondescript apartment building, up five flights of stairs, down a poorly lit hallway and into apartment 5D.

It was quiet in the apartment, and the musty smell told her that Olivia hadn't been there in a couple of days. There was a half full ashtray on the small table by the door and a pair of shoes lying haphazardly on the floor. Alex took in the apartment as Olivia mumbled something about making herself at home and hurried around picking up discarded items and articles of clothing. Her eyes wandered to the only personalized items in the room; a framed diploma on the wall and a picture of a blonde woman and a small brunette girl by the phone. The blinking light on the answering machine next to the photo caught her attention next. Eight new messages confirmed Alex's suspicion that this woman did not spend much time at home.

It should have been strange being in a stranger's apartment, but Alex wasn't worried. Maybe it was the residual effects of the joint that she and Serena had shared earlier before they had drifted off to sleep or maybe it was the three shots of tequila she had done before that.

'Or it might be her eyes.' The voice in the back of her head piped up.

'Yeah right.' Alex silently replied.

"Everything okay?"

Alex whirled around, out of her trance and came face to face with those eyes.

"Yeah, yeah," she managed to stutter.

"I brought you some clothes," Olivia stated plainly as she held up the bundle of cotton blends in her hands, never breaking eye contact with the other woman. "I thought you might like something dry to wear. Might warm you up."

Alex remembered then that she was soaking wet and noticed that she was actually shaking because of it.

"Thank you," she mumbled, reaching for the articles and moved towards the bathroom Olivia was gesturing towards.

Halfway across the living room she paused and turned around and looked at the woman who was now staring back at her quizzically.

"Fuck it," she said, before dropping the clothes and marching back over to Olivia, taking the other woman's face in her hands.

"I don't do this," Olivia whispered, but made no move to back away.

"It's okay," Alex had replied, rubbing her thumb gently against the other woman's bottom lip as she lowered her mouth towards hers, "Neither do I."

* * *

Even as she thought back on it the moment seemed surreal to her, who does that? Who comes onto a complete stranger in a strange apartment on the same night that they had just slept with someone else? The tears were spilling freely down her cheeks as Alex flipped the lock on the old wooden door quietly and dug into the pocket of her hoodie for a cigarette and her lighter as she slipped the door open. Once safely in the hallway she took a deep drag and leaned against the wall.

This was it, this was the end; nothing like this would happen again. She would take that job at the prestigious law firm she had been offered, no more toying with that bullshit about legal aid and advocacy. Gone were the days of ripped jeans and comfortable t-shirt and of long hippie hair. It was time to grow up. It was time to go back to being that perfect little porcelain doll.

Pulling out a second cigarette, the last one in the pack, Alexandra Cabot stepped out into the pre-dawn hours and tossed the empty cardboard box and the pink Zippo lighter into the trashcan. "Sorry Olivia," she said to a tumbleweed of garbage floating down the cold New York street, "I think I really would have liked you."


	4. Chapter 4

In All the Right Ways

Disclaimer: They are not mine. None of them, I promise

A/N: Hi everyone! You miss me? I apologize for the extreme break between chapters (7 months. yikes!) and I hope it has been worth your wait. Yes, I promise to update again soon. I am currently working on another story (The Western Way Redux over in the Castle universe) go check it out if you get the chance. Anyway, let me know what you think, you know how much I love your feedback! In fact, it was reading back over the reviews that kicked my butt back into gear to write another chapter. =)

* * *

Chapter 4

When Olivia opened her door it would be an understatement to say that she was surprised to see a box wrapped in shiny balloon paper sitting on her doorstep. Slowly, she planted one foot on the other side of the threshold and leaned forward so she could peer down the hall. There was no one in sight. Leaning back so her weight was once again on her back leg she frowned as she took her boot-clad toes and poked the package suspiciously. The box teetered for a moment before falling back to its original position. Fairly confidant that it would not explode, she bent to pick up the package only to freeze once again when she caught sight of the envelope underneath it. The swirly almost flawless calligraphy told her exactly whom the package was from.

The door shut with a resounding bang as she walked back towards her couch, holding the box in one hand and lighting a cigarette with the other. She was really quitting this time. Honest. Sinking to the couch, she forgot all about work, the impending snowstorm and the fact that she had been trying to get out of her apartment so she could miss the inevitable drunken phone call from her mother. The box was spinning absently in her hands as her mind wandered to the possibilities of what was in it and why now. Slowly she placed the box gently on the cushion beside her and worked her finger through the glued edge of the violet envelope. The card was simple; just a drawing of a bird perched on the branch of a tree. Olivia slowly ran her finger over the image, tracing the outline. She silently flipped the card open and felt tears threaten to spill at the two simple words written inside.

"Happy Birthday."

It had been a year to the day since Olivia Benson had met Alex Cabot. Since that night in the coffee shop, she had seen her exactly one more time in person; the night that they had met at Bill's. They had passed out in her bed after what could only be described as an overheated make-out session. Olivia leaned her head back on the couch and closed her eyes. She could still see the bright blue of Alex's eyes standing out against her pale skin and hair resting on the white pillowcase. They had whispered for hours about everything and nothing. Alex had told her of her dreams to go into advocacy and maybe eventually lobbying working with international relief organizations. Her family and friends were pressuring her to accept one of the invites from some of the more prestigious defense firms in the city. Olivia couldn't help but be impressed with some of the names that Alex was inadvertently dropping. Alex had gone on to talk about of the shenanigans she and her friends had gotten into to blow off steam during the strenuous years of law school. Olivia had found herself laughing, truly laughing, for the first time in years. She had in turn talked about work, Elliot and Munch, how annoying Cassidy was and how much harder the work was than she had anticipated. She had shied away from details about her family and childhood because she didn't want the laughter to stop. She didn't want to bring the cloud back. Her eyes had drifted shut involuntarily as Alex's fingers traced patterns over her naked back. Somewhere along the way between the living room and the bed all of her clothing, except her boyshorts, had been stripped off. Alex was down to a simple white cami and underwear, which combined with her near white hair and skin, added to her ironic portrayal of virginal innocence. Olivia wasn't complaining though.

"Thank you." The whisper had barely made it past Olivia's lips but Alex's shifting body told her that she had heard.

Olivia felt her body warm as Alex's came closer and she felt the loose strands of her hair tickle her ear, "Shh. Go to sleep."

Olivia's eyes drifted open and she lifted her head off of the back of the couch. She had awoke in the morning to the ghost of warmth radiating from the other pillow and no signs of Alex other than a few long strands of blonde hair left behind. She tried to call a few times only to find that Alex's dorm phone had been disconnected when she had graduated. A couple of months later she had caught glimpse of an article about Stever & McGinty, one of the most prestigious law firms in The City. It made mention of a couple promising young lawyers the firm had scooped up and wasn't surprised to hear Alexandra Cabot listed as one of the names. So much for advocacy, she had thought wryly. Through some of her friends at the DA's office she learned that the blonde had already earned herself the nickname The Ice Queen and was known as a ball buster. Abbie Carmichael, one of the best ADAs she knew, even said she wasn't looking forward to facing off with the new girl. After that, Olivia had shied away from information and most thoughts of Alex Cabot became distant memories that came to visit every so often.

Gently, she picked up the box and took her time picking the tape away from the sides and lifting the creased paper to reveal the plain box inside. She lifted the lid slowly and felt her lips curl up slightly at the sight of the Matryoshka Doll inside. Alex's quiet words echoed once again in her head.

"You, Olivia Benson, remind me of one of those Russian nesting dolls. So many layers to peel away."

"No," Olivia replied out loud to the memory in her head. "I'm really not that complicated. I do my job, I come home and I sleep."

"Don't sell yourself short. There is so much more of you, and you know it. Don't be afraid to show yourself. You are beautiful, you know."

Olivia let out another sigh and pushed herself up off the couch, cradling the box carefully in one arm. She propped the card up next to the phone— the only indicator that the day was any more important than the other 364 days of the year— and made her way back towards the door. She bent her head against the icy wind as she made her way down the blocks to the subway station her present pressed snuggly against her side, safe from any clumsy pedestrians.

Once at the stations she made no apologies or excuses for her tardiness. Instead she chose to silently ignore Elliot's raised eyebrow when she sat down in her chair and delicately placed the doll, still fully nested, on the top of her desk next to the picture of her and her mother. There was a stack of paperwork on her desk waiting to get done and she could feel the heat on the top of her bent head from where Elliot was staring at her.

"What?" She asked warily, after five minutes of attempting to read the same paragraph over and over again.

Elliot stared at her motionless for a second before his face broke into a giant grin. He brought a small white box from under his desk with a flourish, placing it in the middle of the paperwork in front of her.

"Happy birthday," he grinned as she opened the box to find a single chocolate cupcake from her favorite bakery.

Olivia gaped back at him. "How did you know?"

"What? That it was your birthday or where to get the cupcake from?"

"Both."

"Well, for the first, I may have managed to sneak a look at your personnel record when you refused to tell me when your birthday was every time I asked for the last year and a half."

Olivia glared at him and he continued with a shrug, letting the look roll off of his back. His wife gave him worse death glares on a regular basis.

"And as for the bakery. I'm a detective. I am trained to notice things." Elliot leaned back in his chair, feet propped up on his desk, a little to proud of his responses.

Olivia merely 'humphed' in reply before dipping her finger in the fudgy frosting and offered him a quiet thank you.

* * *

Olivia stared at the small wooden doll on her desk for what seemed like hours after the boys had left for the night. Luckily, they had managed to avoid catching any new cases for the day. Even though paperwork was tedious and boring, it was a welcome reprieve from the horrors they were forced to witness day after day. She had considered twisting open the doll a couple of times to see the smaller dolls that lived inside of it, but could not bring herself to do so. She couldn't bring herself to peel back those layers, to expose the new raw skin that lay underneath. She had grown a layer of steel over the past year. She wondered briefly if Alex had had anything to do with it, but couldn't help but see the two encounters that she had had with the other woman as a small reprieve from her otherwise scarred life, rather than another compounder. Alex had become this dream in a way, just a small memory of brief happiness that she could hold onto whenever she needed it. It was everything else that had toughened Olivia.

She had been given the chance to transfer to another unit- a less stressful unit, one friendlier to more emotionally unstable cops. There is no shame in transferring, the captain had told her. Most cops wouldn't even make it this long in Special Victims. She had taken it as an insult, a challenge. Slowly, she had begun to bury her emotions, letting them slip out occasionally to comfort a victim or mourning family member, only to cage them back up when she didn't need them; when they got in the way. She wouldn't let herself fail.

Slowly, she made her way out of the precinct and into the cold February night. A small flurry of snow had begun to fall and Olivia wrapped her scarf and jacket tighter around her and stuffed her bare hands further into her pockets. Damn gloves- she would remember them one day. Her hat was pulled down far over her ears and forehead but the air still nipped at her nose and cheeks as she bent her head into the cold and walked through the dark streets. After a while she glanced up from her studious examination of her boots and the sidewalk only to notice that she had been traveling in the opposite direction of her apartment. She looked around quickly to gain her bearings and let out a small involuntary laugh. She was right across the street from Columbia University and the small coffee shop she had occupied exactly a year ago. With a sigh Olivia made her way across the street and through the doors of the café. The warm air was a welcome change and her hands slipped out of her pockets so they could thaw in the warmth. She unwound the scarf from her neck and removed her hat as she made her way towards the counter to place her order. She unzipped her jacket as she walked to one of the back tables with her coffee in her hand, and plopped down into one of the chairs with a clear view of the door. Some things would never change.

It was weird to be back in a place that she only distantly knew, but was permanently burned into her memory. Small study groups chattered around her and college girls giggled over conversations about frat parties and dorm gossip. A beatnik writer sat at the counter with a cigarette in one hand and a fountain pen in the other.

The chiming of bell on the door drew Olivia's attention away from the young man and brought her face to face with the shockingly blue eyes of Alex Cabot, or should she say Alexandra Cabot, because the woman in front of her was not the same one she had met exactly a year ago. Gone were the days of baggy sweatshirts and comfortable jeans. This woman had shoulder length, well-styled hair, a Prada suit and three inch Jimmy Choo power heels.

Any yet, the woman came towards her, never breaking eye contact. The same bright blue eyes she remembered.

"Hi Olivia."

Olivia stared at her, a thousand thoughts and emotions screaming through her brain at the same time, threatening to breakdown the well-constructed wall she had built up over the past year. She forced the traitorous tears that were threatening to swell back down and swallowed the lump in her throat. Taking a deep breath, her normally sure and assertive voice was shaky at best.

"Hi."


End file.
